What I'm saying now is something I've kept secret for more than one year:
I have made a book. A new book. A very important one.
I started the selection phase last year, more than 8 terabytes of photographs passed once again in front of my eyes. I've selected some of them, it took me more than 6 months.
The hardest part of the job is to find a line, a path. After one year I realised that what I wanna do is to capture the ancestral and archetypical phenomenons nowadays eclipsed by the complexity of our society.
Primitive needs, elementary emotions, simple situations are definitely the main subjects of my photographs.
But... What about the book? For more than 3 months I haven't been able to work on it. I had something like a photographer's block. I couldn't find a good idea, I had too many photos, too many possibilities.
And every choice implies thousands of renunciations.
A couple of weeks ago I met one of my cousin who's working in an art gallery in the States. I explained to her my vision about life and how I try to translate my thoughts in photographs. Then I showed her the selection and I asked her: "What do you think about it? What's the point of all these photos?"
She saw the photographs once more, then she told me something very interesting I wasn't considering: in every photograph, there's always something out of place. It could be a person, an object, or even me, the Photographer\observer.
I spent the following days thinking about it.